“Where?”
“Your car's fixed. I'll drop you off.”
“It's okay. You can write the address down. I can catch an Uber. I need to help my dad with these tables anyway.”
I look between them both and shake my head.
“Olivia, I can sort the tables out. All I have to do is stack them on top of each other.” I watch them both staring at each other having some kind of secret conversation, stupid.
I should tell them both to fuck off and tell them exactly how I feel. Yet here I am keeping my mouth shut because my mom taught me better, my mom taught me how to respect people.
“How long is it going to take you?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“Twenty minutes. Let me know where my car is, and I'll pick it up. It's fine. You don't need to help me.”
I let out a chuckle and push myself off the door frame and walk into the classroom.
“No, I don't need to help you,” I say, picking a table up and putting it on top of the other, then the next one. Twenty minutes, for a few fucking tables, they would spend all that time arguing over money. “Where do these tables need to go?” I ask not looking toward them.
“In the corner, son?—”
“No, no, no, you don't get to call me that. You never get to call me that. Because if I was your son, you wouldn't have done what you did.” I stop myself from losing my calm. “Are you two just going to stand there and stare at me or move these tables? I have other shit to do.”
They both start moving the tables, and I continue working on one side by myself, listening in the conversation again.
“Dad, please just take it.”
“Thank you, Olivia, this means a lot to us.”
“Always. I'll start saving for the second half. I'll open savings for law school tomorrow. Promise.”
Finishing the last table, I walk over to both of them and stare at Olivia. Her eyes are beautiful as always, and I remember how they looked up at me when she was on her knees in front of me. Fuck how I would love her there again.
“One more thing—” I throw the envelope on the table. “If you ever give me your money again, I'll burn it, and that's a waste for both of us. Unlike you, I don't need the money. I don't wantyour money. Don't need your money, and I'll never ask you for money?—”
“But it's my car.”
“So?” I walk away without another word. But exiting the door, I shout back to her. “I'll wait for you by my car.”
I hear her walking behind me, and I get my phone out to message Cain.
Hayden
How many hours does Olivia work at the club?
Cain
Too many, but she wants the hours I need a good member of staff behind the bar.
Putting my phone into my pocket as we get out into the car park, I get in the car, it’s a twenty minute drive to Blake's garage, so it shouldn't take me too long.
As we drive, I hear Olivia say softly,. “Thank you.”
I don't turn to her, and I don't reply back. Taking a deep breath in, I look over at the dash as my phone starts ringing to see who it is, my mom’s name appears. Answering.
“Hi mom, I’m not alone,” I tell her.
“My conversations with you are not going to be R rated Hayden.” I laugh at her tone, because she knows what I’m talking about.
